


gentle and slow and sweet as honey

by lovebeyondmeasure



Series: zvezda moya [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Lazy Mornings, Lesbian Maria Hill, Lesbian Natasha Romanov, Morning Kisses, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 08:14:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17915150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovebeyondmeasure/pseuds/lovebeyondmeasure
Summary: Waking up and not feeling tired was a luxury she was rarely afforded, and Maria was determined to enjoy it to the hilt.





	gentle and slow and sweet as honey

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while, but I'm back in this universe because of a lovely tumblr message I got with a prompt, which I.... did not use in this fic. I'll be back with that one, eventually! Thank you, extremely kind person. I hope this is alright instead.
> 
> A refresher to the zvezda moya 'verse: Natasha and Maria are in an established relationship, and they share a cat, Astrid, who is pregnant. If you haven't read the previous stories, you'll understand if I encourage you to do so ;)
> 
> There's some transliterated Russian, most of which is clear from context, but _zvezda moya_ means "my star" and _zvyozdochka_ is an endearment of that, meaning roughly "little star" in case anyone wonders.
> 
> Enjoy, my darlings.

Maria lay quietly in the bed, counting the rhythm of her breaths, letting the morning sun wash over her. 

In. One, two, three. 

Hold. One, two, three. 

Out. One, two, three. 

Hold. One, two, three.

She could hear Natasha, somewhere else in the apartment, singing in her husky voice. Maria stretched, focusing on each part of her body- toes, ankles, calves, thighs, hips, spine, shoulders, neck. Arms, wrists, hands. She sighed.

It had been a very long week, the result of which was an averted gang war that would have spread through three countries. It had been accomplished by some extremely delicate coordination and handling, and very little sleep. Maria looked at the clock for the first time- she’d managed nearly eleven uninterrupted hours of sleep. She stretched again.

Waking up and not feeling tired was a luxury she was rarely afforded, and Maria was determined to enjoy it to the hilt. She slowly lifted her head from the pillow, enjoying the pull of her muscles, the lack of tension in her neck. She sat upright, reaching out and folding down to wrap her hands around her feet, holding the pose until she felt a gentle burn. When was the last time she’d done yoga? When was the last time she’d had the time?

Fully awake now, Maria could hear Natasha was in the kitchen, still singing, and she smiled. It was the sort of morning meant for singing in the kitchen. She was probably making real Russian _blini,_ based on the smell, and Maria’s mouth had already started watering. 

“ _Blyat, koshka,_ don’t stand behind me,” Natasha said. Their cat meowed back at her. “No, you cannot have any _blini,_ you are an obligate carnivore. Go eat your fancy canned food which I carried up the stairs my own self to feed you with, ungrateful thing.”

Astrid meowed again. Maria laughed. She did love her ladies. 

“Are you having a pregnancy craving? I didn’t think cats had such things. Shoo, shoo!”

Maria hauled herself upright, sliding on her moccasins and pulling a soft, well-worn sweatshirt over her tanktop. It was a bit chilly in the apartment, which was how Natasha preferred it; she always adjusted the thermostat when Maria was gone for long enough. 

“Good morning,” she called as she shuffled down the short hall to the kitchen. Natasha looked up at her, a smile lurking in the corners of her generous mouth.

“Hello, _zvyozdochka,_ ” she said. “You slept well.”

Maria nodded. “And now you’re feeding me, which means that today is the perfect day.”

Natasha did smile, now, and Maria stepped forward to press her lips to it. It was gentle and slow and sweet as honey. 

“It is good to have you home again,” Natasha murmured, and Maria hummed in agreement. 

“I feel like we’re never both here at the same time,” she said, tilting her head to slide her lips over the smooth skin of Natasha’s cheek.

“Mmm, yes- wait, no, stop that,” Natasha said, pushing her gently backwards. “I must finish making breakfast, or our daughter will attempt to eat all my good _blini_ and make herself sick. Go drink some coffee.”

Maria allowed herself to be shooed towards the pot of coffee, pouring herself a mug and settling onto one of their well-worn kitchen chairs, content for the moment to watch Natasha cook. Astrid came over to wind around Maria’s ankles, mewing plaintively. Her little stomach was looking heavier, visible evidence of the changes within her. 

“Hello, _mamochka,_ ” Maria greeted her, leaning to offer the sleek grey head a scritch. “How are your babies doing?”

“They grow like weeds,” Natasha replied, pouring her batter into the cast-iron skillet with deft economy of motion. “The vet says she will have healthy kittens.”

“That’s good,” Maria said, sliding her hand along Astrid’s spine, not nearly as prominent as it had been when Natasha first brought her home. “Who would’ve thought that our illegal immigrant would thrive so well here? She’s practically living the cat version of the American dream.”

“Mm,” Natasha agreed, testing the edge of a _blini._ “Not unlike myself.”

Maria laughed. “My illegal ladies. I hope you’re not holding out for a white picket fence and two-point-five kids, though, or you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

Natasha chuckled. “No, no, our apartment and grandkittens will be enough for me! People in our line of work… no, that’s not a future for the likes of us.”

Maria got up to step close to her lover, sliding her hands around Natasha’s flat stomach, where her grey shirt covered her scars. “We will have beautiful grandkittens,” she said quietly, laying her head on Natasha’s shoulder. 

“I hope so,” Natasha said. “I do hope our naughty _koshka_ has good taste in men.”

“Mm, I’m sure she does,” Maria said, swaying slightly against Natasha. “You were singing earlier, I heard you.”

“I was, yes.”

“Will you sing for me?”

Natasha turned her head to press a kiss to Maria’s mouth. “I will, _zvyozdochka,_ if you let me finish cooking you breakfast.”

Maria rubbed her hands along Natasha’s hips like a promise. “I’ll go set the table, then.”

Natasha began to sing once more, a new song.

“It had to be you, it had to be you, I wandered around and finally found, somebody who could make me be true...”

Maria hummed along as she took the plates down from the cabinet. She was always amused by the bits of American pop culture that Natasha deemed worthy of keeping, of the many things she picked up along the way.

She set the table and smiled to see Astrid curled up in the bright sunbeam falling through one of the living room windows onto the couch. 

It was good morning, she thought again, stretching herself out towards the ceiling. 

“For nobody else gave me a thrill... With all your faults, I love you still,” Natasha sang. 

Maria slid up behind her again, laying a kiss on Natasha’s cheek. She stopped singing to swat at Maria, not power behind it. “What did I say about letting me finish cooking, hm?”

“I know,” Maria said, kissing her again, letting her lips linger. “But I realized I forgot to do something.”

“Forgot what?”

“I love you,” Maria said, smiling, “and I haven’t told you that yet today, which seems like a crime.”

“We are in the business of pursuing criminals,” Natasha said, flipping one of the _blini_ onto the stack she was building.

“So it’s a good thing I’m taking care of this now, before it becomes a problem,” Maria said. 

Natasha caught Maria’s hand, bringing it up across her body to press a kiss into Maria’s palm.

“I love you too, _zvezda moya._ Go sit, let me take care of you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Maria said, not stepping away. “Then after breakfast, let me take care of you.”

Natasha’s eyebrow raised. “I could be persuaded to allow you such liberties.”

Maria grinned. “I’m a very persuasive person.”

Natasha started singing again. “It had to be you, wonderful you…”

Maria closed her eyes, absorbing the morning into herself. The sound of Natasha’s voice, the sizzle of the batter in the pan, the scent of the fresh _blini_ and the butter and jam. The way she felt, loose-limbed and relaxed, well-rested and well-loved.

“Here you go, _zvyozdochka_ ,” Natasha said, sliding a plate onto the table. “Feast away.”

“ _Spasibo bolshoe,_ ” Maria said, to Natasha’s smiling eye-roll.

“Your accent is getting better,” she said. 

“I love you too,” Maria said.


End file.
